


Light and Dust

by Szeszely



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Morning Kisses, Mornings, Secret Relationship, Sunshine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Szeszely/pseuds/Szeszely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is a movement. Happiness is the whistle of an arriving train through the fog. Only worn rags are the words, plangent and never enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light and Dust

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, I've worked on too many poems lately. Also, I'm pretty much in love with morning sunshine.

**  
**

 

** Love is a movement. **

From your hand, teary, crumpled, falls the letter out. It drops onto the ground quietly and white like the petals of the faded roses I bought some time ago. The paper reflects the first rays of the rising sun and it’s a painfully gleaming brightness on your kitchen’s dark tiles.

“I wanted you to read it after I left.”

My own voice sounds strange, harsh in the silence as I wish I had gone before you woke up. But I couldn’t.

_“You cannot do this to me.”_

Every whispered word of yours is a new wound beaten into my heart.

“You know I have to.”

_“Why?”_

You look at me, questioningly, dolorous. None is sadder than the pleading eye.

“To save you.” That’s all I manage, but it’s still the truth, cruel and evident.

_“What if I don’t want to be saved?”_

It lingers in the air, your question, unanswered and stabbing.

I can’t meet your eyes, I know I would fall apart if I did. I’m watching the wet circles that the rims of our glasses drew on the cool, marbled table until up from my heart comes the sigh to my lips.

_“Don’t you think I’m strong enough, Lukas?”_

I’m sure you are, but I am not. Your strength can’t be enough for the both of us.

“ _I want to come out. I want to live a true life and not a lie. No matter what brings us the future, because that’s the only thing that counts, you and me together.”_

Dolour and desire sobs from my heart at your statement. You are right and I’m afraid.  
Do you love me? I want to ask, but never do, maybe I don’t really need to.

Your footsteps echo in the house as I close my eyes in utter defeat. Your fingers stroke the back of my shaking hands and I feel the brush of gentle lips at my temple.

 _“Shh…”_ You soothe me when I turn and try to speak. With your face buried in my neck you murmur my destiny. _“Stay with me.”_

Love is your hand’s caress along my spine, the shake of your breath when I wrap my arms around your waist and my nod after you ask me again. We hold each other and I wander whether there were any other path we could have gone by. Because I know the taste of sadness: your tears dissipating against my lips.

 

 

** Happiness is the whistle of an arriving train through the fog. **

I carry you in my heart like an old photograph in a wallet that only at certain times can be pulled out and kissed secretly. Once I have been told happiness is the end of waiting, but never have I understood it, not until now. Standing on the pavement of the dove-grey platform realisation hits me like electricity, making my blood pulsate faster, eyes look further and smile tug on my lips.

 

Your train pulls in and I am reckless, barely in control to keep myself from kissing you breathless amongst all these strangers who have no right to judge any kind of love, but they do it anyway. They do, everybody does, therefore I  walk up to you and not skip, hug you back instead of crashing our lips together and brush our fingers only by accident as we make our way to the closest bench.

 

Your eyes are gleaming green as if they have collected the trembling beam of a distant star and you yarn about your days in Munich, how adventurous, challenging and busy they are, how lonely you feel. You talk and I listen, careful not to miss a word and smiling like I never knew pain.

We sit there under the midsummer morning’s easeful blue sky and the cooling world has fever again. I take you to the car and I laugh with watering eyes at your lame jokes as we drive through the city, but till suffocating squeezes me the desire inside.

 

You can scarcely step through the threshold before finding yourself in my arms, tightly enveloped in _my kind_ of happiness. You give just as much as I do and our aching earthy sighs are fine sand flying in the burning air.

 

The warmth of your body never loses its magic – that’s the only thing I can focus on when I finally claim what I wish to be unconditionally mine. You drift off to sleep with your head on my chest and I feel like falling in love again with every second of your soft snoring.

 

The time digs ditches around the corners of our mouths and on our foreheads and I know tomorrow you will have more silver in your hair than you have today. It’s not important, because this is our bliss, the moments that have no significant purpose or effect on the world’s constant changing, but glitter in our souls throughout that blink which is life.

 

 

** Only worn rags are the words, plangent and never enough. **

I’m watching the tiny pieces of dust swirling in the warm ray of sunshine and I feel more content than ever. This isn’t my first morning waking up next to your curled up figure, but it never stops giving me a heart attack how beautiful you are.

The Sun pins a golden comb into your hair and I want to kiss your fragrant, soft shoulder, just that one piece that sticks out from under the cover.

Your dream flashes over your face and your eyelashes flatter like they do when I say goodbye on our secret dates. I wish you dream about me in another world where there’s no invisible and unbreakable barrier between the life we have and the life we want.

 

It’s so good, blowing on your skin with a tepid exhale and feeling your little knee shudder against my thigh. You stir and open your eyes slowly, the end of a dream still ghosting in your expression as you greet me with your laziest smile. My memories of you glint in my soul like _the ring_ on a finger and I’m ready to burst.

You notice my odd mood and your smirk turns into concerned examining. I snicker, because you are like this sometimes: the widely opened opal eyes of a gleaming, precious and rare minute.

 

_“Are you okay, darling?”_

 

“I am.” More than simply okay, there are no words to describe what I feel right now. You look confused and an adorable pout forms on your lips.

 

_“Then what’s with all the staring, Luki?”_

 

I shrug, unable to find a good enough explanation. Your soul is a treasure. You’ve wrapped me up in it so often, making nicer the wounding wildness of the world around us.

 

“I love you.”

 

You’re fiddling with your fingers on the pillow, not meeting my gaze, as a faint blush creeps onto your cheeks, rosy like the dawn. I take hold of your chin and lift your head up to see the flames in your eyes for an instant before you reply.

**You warmly kiss my mouth, my heart blooms and we love.**

 

 

 


End file.
